Page 2 of Angel I Am Not

“And yet that’s the only thing I want. Do we have a deal?” I raised my hand, signaling for the waitress. I was weak when it came to human food, and I had waited for long enough. Uriel hesitated before finally nodding. “Excellent. Good luck trying to get a hold of Dad, though. I’ve heard he’s a bit hard to speak with.” Ever since I had ruined things. One petty little disagreement, and now Dad stayed as hidden as his job allowed. The mysterious aura he carried around with him actually served his purpose to embody the elusive entity on the throne.

Uriel shook his head, his curls bouncing against his cheeks. Despite the youth and smooth skin that came with being an angel, I could see the wrinkles creeping into his flesh, formed from exhaustion and stress. “I’m not trying to challenge him, Dante. I’m trying to warn him.”

That was news to me, and while I was intrigued, I was now focused on a burger that would soon be mine. I kept the salivating to myself though, pretty sure Uriel wouldn’t appreciate it. The waitress popped up at my side, a wide smile on her face as she blinked rapidly in my direction.

I had long since become immune to what humans called flirtation. I knew I looked good, but I wasn’t here for a quick fuck. I was here for a juicy piece of meat. I rattled off my order, sending her along her way but not without watching her sway those hips, trying to test my control. I was immune, not dead.

Uriel’s scowl brought me back to the present, pulling a sigh from me. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve got in store, Uriel. In fact, I’ll bring popcorn and sit outside the gates.”

His brows furrowed. “You’re an idiot.”

“Says the archangel who’s about to challenge God.”

“That’s not – you don’t get it.”

“I never do, do I?” I mused. I pushed away from the table and headed for the register, tracking down the waitress before she disappeared with my order. Her smile widened when I leaned over the counter, and under any other circumstances, I might have taken the invitation.

Uriel was trying to warn God.

Fuck.

I added a Coke to my order. Apparently, I was going to need it.

Ariuk

The beauty of heaven was unrivaled. A warm breeze flowed through my braids that I had worked on while I was supposed to be guarding one of the gates. The lush gardens full of green, blue, and purple hues were part of the paradise that humans so desperately wanted to live in, and I couldn’t blame them. It was beautiful. Lying upon these beds of grass was like sleeping on a pillow. If only living in heaven was as peaceful as it looked.

The darkness that lurked beneath the seductive beauty of this plane was unavoidable. It just wasn’t something angels advertised when guiding souls to Earth.

A heavy sigh fell from my lips as I relaxed into the embrace of my promised angel, Domiel, whom I called Miel. He tugged me against his chest as we leaned against the tree of life, my gaze focused on one of the purple flowers at my feet.

My inclination was to pinch the stalk between my toes, but they frowned at death and destruction in this realm, which I found tiresome because it would be just so easy to twist and watch the life seep from its essence.

Those are not angelic thoughts, I giggled to myself.

For twenty-eight years, I’d been trying to become the kind of angel Heaven expected me to be. Last year, everyone finally stopped pretending my gift was simply late and started using the word giftless when they thought I couldn’t hear them.

“Skipping lessons again, Ariuk?”

I opened one eye. Parisa stood on the path with two angels from our training group, all three dressed in the same white linens that made everyone up here look painfully boring.

“Hard to practice something I don’t have.”

Her gaze flicked toward Miel before coming back to me. “Being Uriel’s creation should make you want to set a better example.”

“Maybe Uriel should’ve asked for a refund.”

Miel’s arm tightened around my waist. “Ariuk.”

Parisa smiled like she’d won something and continued down the path with her little entourage. I watched her go, resisting the urge to throw the purple flower at the back of her head. An angel without a gift wasn’t unheard of. However, being the creation of an archangel made my failure everybody else’s business.

No, I wasn’t bitter.

Then there were my fucking wings.

We were known for our purity, which meant things in shades of white, pearly, sparkly, and plain. I much preferred colors, namely any that didn’t include white but specifically deeper undertones that brought out the richness of my dark skin.

Which is why it made sense that everyone’s wings were white, free of blemishes and wickedness. Mine? Feathers scattered along my spine were a shade of midnight, a void of darkness and evil that made people shy away from me.